


chronostasis

by Nyaruki



Category: Keyakizaka46 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, F/F, I have no idea how to tag this lmao, Implied/Referenced Suicide, and a little bit of yuukanen, mentions of smoking, monarisa, not a happy story by any means but the ending isn't necessarily bad? maybe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-11 16:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15976187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyaruki/pseuds/Nyaruki
Summary: Only her clock was broken all along.





	chronostasis

**Author's Note:**

> hi. if you thought i was dead and gone... well, you'd be partially right because a series of very unfortunate events kicked my ass (and also my ability to write). but given that i'm a miserable manaka oshi, i had to come back to writing eventually in order to fill the manaka-shaped hole in my life :")  
> i was debating on whether to post this or not but it took me an embarrassingly long time to finish so here goes...... it's probably Very incoherent but i'm still struggling with my writer's block so please cut me some slack, hahaha.
> 
> i promise to go back to writing my Usual Content next time but in the meantime here's a depressing monarisa.  
> i still can't decide whether the ending they got was a happy or an unhappy one so please do let me know what you thought of it...... (if you want)

“Say, Risa…”

It’s red. The sunset paints the whole sky a vivid, almost blood-like scarlet, but Risa barely gives it a second thought, just notes absentmindedly how the sun is starting to set much earlier now that it’s the end of summer. It’s been a particularly humid day, and she can feel her shirt clinging uncomfortably to her skin to the point where it almost feels suffocating. Nevertheless, as she looks up at the girl standing before her, none of that feels relevant anymore.

It’s red. Manaka’s hair is the color of blood, a hue that Risa knows would be blending into the sky behind them if it wasn’t for the halo of sunlight framing the girl’s head. Risa is sitting on the ground and Manaka is towering above her, as if to shield her eyes from the final rays of the sun before the day turns into night. Instead, the backlight makes it seem like the darkness has fallen over Manaka just a bit earlier than it has for everyone else.

Risa knows she’s seen this scene before, knows the words that follow by heart.

“Do you think we’ll be together forever?”

She can’t quite make out Manaka’s expression though the heavy shadow on her face. But it’s a matter of minutes, now—once the sun sets and the streetlights come to life, Manaka will be illuminated before her once again. It’s an overly familiar setting, a well-practiced script, and even though she’s seen it all before, she doesn’t remember how the scene ends

It’s unnerving, against all common sense. She knows Manaka better than she knows herself at this point, but without seeing her expression, all she feels is distance.

And _that_ scares her more than anything.

Perhaps it’s because of that thought that she can never come up with an answer. It’s a question that she knows for certain that she’s heard time and time again, even if she can’t recall exactly _when_ or _why_. She anticipates it, but regardless, it always seems to catch her off-guard.

After all, just what is _forever_? Until death, beyond that? The whole thought process feels increasingly déjà vu, and yet it never leads her anywhere. Perhaps even more importantly, when is _forever_ supposed to begin? She looks at the darkness in front of her and all she feels is afraid. Afraid of this moment stretching into eternity. Afraid that the darkness will be frozen in time.

Most of all, she’s afraid she’ll never see Manaka’s face again.

And if that’s what her _forever_ looks like, she’d rather end it before it can even begin. But then, maybe… Maybe if she just says ‘yes’, she can make the light shine on Manaka even just a second sooner. A _forever_ basking in the warmth of Manaka’s smile is one she’d readily accept.

So why can’t she answer? The words are stuck in her throat. For a moment, it feels as if the world itself is stuck.

She reaches out, in a desperate attempt to get it moving once again, but—

* * *

The spot next to her is empty, but nobody asks to sit there.

Which honestly suits Risa just fine, because the only person she’s ever allowed to sit beside her is Manaka, and the other people she doesn’t mind sharing her personal space know not to ask.

Manaka’s been absent for a while, though, and Risa is honestly starting to question what motivated her to start going to university in the first place. It’s not that the people changed, and neither did her environment, even if the subjects changed a little every semester. Wasn’t she supposed to have hopes and ambitions? No matter how hard she tries, she can only think of the whispered jokes and Manaka’s dorky grin that made it all _worth it_ , and without the girl by her side to make the boring lectures a bit more bearable, there hardly seems to be a point in attending anymore.

Maybe she’s the one who changed, after all.

The professors getting angry at them for not being able to hold back laughter during class feels like a distant, fond memory, even though it’s not really so distant after all. Nowadays, she mostly keeps her head down and eyes closed. Sometimes, if she’s lucky, she even manages to fall asleep.

Nobody bothers to get angry at her anymore.

Today, she chooses to spend her time looking through the window instead, idly watching as colorful leaves get swept away by a sudden gust of wind every now and then. Yellow, brown, red, some lingering traces of green. In the blink of an eye, it became autumn again.

Still, every little leaf, each unique shade brings her back to a different season, a different memory. She’s spent enough seasons with Manaka to witness the entire autumn color palette in her hair, but as she sits alone in class, somehow, that nostalgia feels almost suffocating, even if she knows there’s plenty of new memories to be made and new hair colors to explore.

She closes her eyes, then, in a desperate attempt to shake off that feeling. Perhaps it’s because Manaka’s hair used to be a running joke on campus for the longest time, yet, inexplicably, nobody ever brings it up as of late.

They only keep looking at the empty seat beside Risa with a pity that she doesn’t understand.

She really doesn’t want to be here.

* * *

It’s extremely quiet that night.

Or at least it feels that way, because they’re still a couple of busy streets away from home, and it can never be truly quiet when you’re stuck amidst the hustle and bustle of people who always seem to be in a hurry to go somewhere.

Normally, Risa would be yet another one of them, in a hurry to get away from the crowd as soon as physically possible. That night, even that desire melts away into the distance along with the noise. They’re not really talking, and perhaps it’s that comfortable silence that has stretched out into their very own secluded world, shut out from the neon-tinted chaos around them.

Manaka’s hand is warm inside hers, almost like a charm against the bite of the winter chill. She’s walking a few steps to the front rather than by Risa’s side, but the reason seems obvious as Risa glances at the large, reddened ear poking through the warm brown of her hair. Manaka was always weak to the cold, and it shows, no matter how hard she always seems to try to hide that fact. Despite her slightly brisker pace, though, the girl doesn’t appear to be in any hurry to get home either.

The night is quiet, so they share an unspoken agreement to savor it.

And when bits of pure white start falling from the pitch black sky, it almost feels like magic.

Manaka squeaks out a noise of excitement and abruptly turns around to face Risa, hot breath trailing a pale curve into the air as she does. “Risa! It’s the first snow!”

Her eyes are wide and sparkling like a child, and she’s seemingly forgotten all about hiding her weakness to the cold, giving Risa a good look of her adorably red nose. Little snowflakes dance all around them, glimmering in the dull streetlights, and it’s only now that Risa realizes that they’ve finally broken out of the sea of people and sunk into the genuine silence of a lonely alleyway.

It all feels ephemeral, somehow, as if in a dream. The tiny snowflakes land all over her and melt near instantaneously, until the leftover drops of cold water almost look like dozens of glittering gems as they stick to her coat. Not even one of them seems to land anywhere on Manaka, though—they just flutter nearby.

Risa pretends not to notice. It’s probably the wind’s fault, or maybe the first snow of the year really is magical. It doesn’t matter.

Instead, she leans in for one kiss that leaves both of them a little breathless, and when Manaka’s cheeks flush red, it’s not only because of the cold anymore.

That’s all Risa needs to confirm to herself that the moment is real.

* * *

Cigarettes taste more bitter in the winter, Risa thinks as the smoke burns into her lungs.

Nobody seems to agree with her, though. She can distinctly remember Manaka telling her one time that she only really enjoys smoking when it’s cold outside, that it warms her up from the inside. Risa only responded with a shrug back then, and Manaka laughed, and somehow, Risa still managed to find enjoyment in the moment.

In retrospect, it might have been that laugh that made the taste just a bit sweeter. Or perhaps it was the way Manaka liked to light her cigarette from Risa’s. Maybe it was just the girl being there to keep her company that was enough to fool her taste buds into believing that it’s not that bad, after all.

Whatever the case, Risa realizes that smoking alone tastes far worse than it ever did with Manaka by her side, which makes a twisted amount of sense considering that they’ve been smoking together since their first cigarette all those years ago. It’s almost endearing to think about, in a way, even if it _was_ more or less the worst decision they’ve ever made.

Though, recently she’s had to settle for smoking alone all the time. Manaka still hasn’t bothered to show up at university, and while the question sits at the tip of Risa’s tongue, she can never quite manage to ask her _why_.

But weirder still is the fact that nobody ever asks _her_ about how Manaka’s been doing. Risa chalks it up to her tendency to subconsciously intimidate people, but even if she’s never been universally liked herself, Manaka is fairly popular—or _was_ , back when she still hung out with people other than Risa every once in a while—so it’s weird.

To the point where it makes that creeping feeling that something’s _off_ just a little harder to ignore with each passing day.

She takes one final drag of her thoroughly unenjoyable cigarette before crushing it under her heel. Just then, some student who’s evidently more diligent than her passes by and scolds her for smoking in a non-smoking area of campus. Risa mumbles out a _sorry_ , but turns around to leave before she can hear the rest of it.

She still has a lecture left, but frankly, she doesn’t care. All she wants right now is to see Manaka.

* * *

It’s been warmer lately.

Which makes sense, she supposes, if the blooming trees visible through her bedroom window are any indication. Apparently, it’s already cherry blossom season, but it’s startlingly easy to lose track of time when you spend most of it tangled up in your girlfriend.

A stray petal finds its way inside the room, and the wind carries it until it lands on Manaka’s hair, blonde and damaged and fanned out across the pillow. It’s a pale pink, almost white, but the color grows significantly darker and more vivid where it used to be connected to the blossom.

Risa finds the color contrast to be oddly reminiscent of the marks blooming all over the paleness of Manaka’s skin right now, lingering traces of last night and older, half-faded ones.

It’s almost instinctive, when she lets her fingertips brush over the bruised flesh of the girl’s shoulders and collarbones, but when Manaka’s breath shudders ever so slightly, the action becomes deliberate. Risa switches from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her nails as she drags them softly up Manaka’s neck, and the girl’s eyelids start to flutter, on the edge of sleep but not quite awake yet. It’s not until Risa presses just a bit too hard into a particularly prominent bite mark on the side of her neck that she moans sharply, and with that, Risa knows she definitely woke her up.

Manaka tries to blink the sleep away from her eyes and Risa moves to press a gentle kiss to her neck in apology. The skin is sensitive, though, even more so when it’s covered with hickeys, and Manaka twitches involuntarily at the contact. Risa pulls away with a teasing lick, and when she comes back up to eye level, Manaka meets her with a vaguely amused expression.

“So, it’s gonna be _that_ kind of morning, huh?”

Risa doesn’t miss the heat already creeping up her ears. She moves to cup her cheek, and Manaka nuzzles obediently into her hand, a clear glimmer of longing in her large eyes. It’s cute.

“You say that as if we’ve had any other kind of morning lately.”

Manaka just snorts, then hooks an arm around the back of Risa’s head and kisses her wildly, and Risa takes the hint to stop talking and just _do_. Her hand grabs roughly at soft flesh while the other tangles into short, blonde locks, and the smooth cherry petal from before briefly reminds her of its presence as it slips through her fingers. Nevertheless, Manaka’s hair feels even smoother to the touch, so it slips her mind just as fast.

There are more important matters to attend to.

It’s a warm spring morning, but in her arms, Manaka’s body feels like a remnant of the winter that has yet to warm up properly.

Risa blames it on the open window, even if somewhere in the back of her head she knows that’s not the case. She doesn’t close it anyway.

It doesn’t matter if people hear.

* * *

It’s the awkward period of time at the juncture between spring and summer, and Risa realizes belatedly how bad of an idea it was to get herself coffee on her way home. It’s far too hot for any warm drinks, even if she needs the dose of caffeine right now; it’s too late for regrets, though, and the cashier hands her the paper cup with a smile. Risa smiles back, more out of politeness than anything else, but now that she paid for it, she finds the contents of the cup incredibly unappetizing.

She takes her first sip after a long deliberation on what to do with it, and as the bitter liquid starts to warm her up uncomfortably from the inside, she hears a voice she hadn’t heard in a while call out to her.

“Risa!”

She turns around to see a pair of girls who give her a friendly wave as they approach. Moriya Akane and Sugai Yuuka, the most perfectly matched couple she’s ever known. They’re more Manaka’s friends than hers, but the four of them used to hang out often enough that Risa, too, ended up becoming close with them.

“Long time no see.” Yuuka says and Risa nods in agreement. It really has been far too long.

“Hey.” She offers a smile, then glances down at their entwined hands. “Am I interrupting a date here?”

They laugh, and Yuuka brushes it off with a _not really_ , but neither of them lets go of the other’s hand. Risa realizes that she’s only ever met them when she was together with Manaka, and her own hand suddenly feels lonely.

“I mean, we’re really just out to buy groceries but I guess a trip to the supermarket _could_ count as a date too.” Akane grins, exposing her perfect teeth as she does. She looks far too dolled up for just a trip to the supermarket, but then again, that’s _Akane_ , and Risa’s never seen her look anything but flawless.

She laughs; she may have not seen the girl in months but some things really never change. Nevertheless, the fact that they seem to be taking care of their groceries together implies that something _has_ changed after all.

“So you guys finally started living together, huh?”

“Ah, well… guess we did.”

“We just figured it was about time, you know?”

They try to play it down, but Risa can tell it actually is a pretty big deal for them, which means that development is probably a fairly recent thing. Nevertheless, she plays along and doesn’t push them for more details.

“Well, congratulations.” Risa knows for a fact that they’ve broken up and gotten back together a few times over the course of their relationship, but she also knows they never stopped loving each other so that doesn’t really matter. If things are finally calm enough that they moved in together, then that’s a good thing. “But yeah, you guys got together just a few months after Manaka and I, so I’d say it really _was_ about time.”

For some reason, Akane visibly stiffens up at that, and even Yuuka looks decidedly uncomfortable. She has this look on her face like she really wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how to put it into words, and Risa has the sinking feeling in her gut that it’s something she doesn’t particularly _want_ to hear. After fidgeting for a few painful seconds, though, the black-haired woman finally speaks up. “So, Risa… How have you been holding up?”

The worry in her eyes is evident. Risa inclines her head to the side in a silent display of confusion—it’s not just that she doesn’t know how to answer, she doesn’t understand the question to begin with. And honestly, she’s not sure she wants to, either.

Yuuka seems hesitant to prod further, but Akane is the one who does.

“I thought you probably wouldn’t want to talk about it so I wasn’t going to ask, but since you brought it up yourself… Seriously, are you okay? You stopped answering your phone after _that_ so we’ve been worried about you all this time.”

‘After _that._ ’ What is _that_? Risa tries to remember something, anything that could fit into what Akane’s talking about, but only ends up drawing a blank. It almost feels like she’s forgetting something important, but there don’t _seem_ to be any gaps in her memory.

Or are there?

She takes a long sip of the long-neglected coffee in her hand and swallows forcibly, throat feeling strangely dry all of a sudden. “What do you mean?”

“…You’re joking, right?” Akane seems genuinely perplexed as her eyebrows furrow together. “Of course I mean Manaka.”

“You haven’t forgotten what happened with her, have you…?”

“We spend the vast majority of our time together, I don’t think there’s much I could forget about her at this point.” Risa laughs weakly, but something feels wrong. There’s that look again, the inexplicable look of pity. Yuuka looks like she’s about to cry.

“What are you saying…!?”

Stop it. Stop it.

“Risa… Manaka’s been gone for—”

_Stop it._

* * *

Her head feels like it’s about to split in two.

_Do you think we’ll be together forever?_

Her ears are ringing, but the question plays behind the static like a broken record.

In the distance, she thinks she can vaguely pick up someone talking to her. _Sorry, the noise is too loud, I can’t hear you._ She doesn’t trust her voice enough to say even that, so she just doesn’t.

She closes her eyes, but she can still see the red.

The sky.

Manaka’s hair.

And finally,

The blood.

As the whole world goes black, all that remains is the blood red image of Manaka’s lifeless body burned into her eyelids.

* * *

With a twitch of the clock’s hand, time starts flowing once again.

All the seasons, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, even the seconds that passed; Risa lived through all of them, only her clock was broken all along.

She can almost feel her bones being crushed under the weight of all the lost time as it mercilessly catches up to her.

She doesn’t know how long she’s cried. She doesn’t, but it’s when her tears have run dry and she’s sitting powerlessly with her face planted in her knees that she feels the familiar sensation of a hand overlapping hers.

Risa doesn’t raise her head.

“…Are you real? Or have I completely lost my mind?” Her voice cracks. Pitiful.

Silence is her only answer, and Risa almost wants to laugh. Every second only makes her feel more pathetic, more alone, yet she still keeps her head down, unwilling to confirm if she actually is. If the faint warmth on top of her hand isn’t just another figment of her imagination.

“I _am_ real.” The girl finally says, in a soft voice that’s very distinctly _Manaka_ , and it immediately makes Risa feel just a bit less broken, even if she knows Manaka is not even supposed to _exist_. She hates herself for being so simple. “I’m real, but… I’m dead, too.”

This time, Risa does laugh. It’s a broken, mirthless sound that sounds more like a sob, and it hurts her throat. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

There’s more warmth, on her cheek this time. She flinches away, and Manaka seems to hesitate for a moment, but then her hand is gently wiping away the traces of tears on her face and Risa honestly doesn’t have the energy to resist.

“If you’re dead…” The words feel like razor blades across her tongue, but she can’t taste any blood. “If you’re really dead, then… why are you still warm? If you’re a ghost, I’m not even supposed to be able to touch you—!”

She finally lifts her head, then immediately regrets it. Her eyes meet Manaka’s and she feels like she’s just had the wind knocked out of her, but she can’t look away. Even through the darkness of the room, she can clearly see the expression on Manaka’s face, and Manaka herself—her feeble smile, crooked with quiet desperation, looking heartbreakingly out of place on the delicate features that, somehow, almost look younger at that moment. Her hair is black, too, and it’s as if they’ve gone back in time, or they’re in a dream, or maybe Risa has been dreaming this whole time? Somehow, she finds that thought even more implausible than the concept of tangible ghosts, and strangely, that’s when reality sinks in.

For as long as Manaka has been dead, even with all the hair styles she’s gone through, she’s only taken on shapes that Risa is familiar with, never anything new. Risa never took the time to think about it, didn’t find it weird that she stopped experimenting, but in retrospect, it all makes sense—Manaka could alter her appearance to that in a memory, but could never move on to the future.

Because she doesn’t exist in this world.

Risa’s eyes feel hot all over again.

“Why can I touch you…?” She sobs.

“I don’t know.” Manaka laughs, but it _hurts_. “I died, then I guess I turned into a ghost, but nobody explains these things to you.”

“At first, I thought that maybe that’s what happens to everyone after they die… That they linger around for a while before finally disappearing for good. But I couldn’t. And I think,” She pauses for a moment, seemingly hesitant. After taking a deep breath that she most likely doesn’t need, she looks into Risa’s eyes once again. “I think it’s because you wouldn’t let me go.”

At that, there’s so many different emotions bubbling up Risa’s throat, jumbling and melting and swirling together until it’s all one sticky mess in her chest and she doesn’t know how to react. She wants to scream, a gut reaction of _of course, you idiot, of course I wouldn’t let you go_ , but no sound comes out.

“You know, I really wasn’t planning on _haunting_ you or anything. I didn’t mean to lie to you, either.” Manaka looks down as she starts once more, sounding more and more apologetic with each word. “I just… couldn’t stand to see you cry like that. And when it turned out that you could see me, and that I could touch you, well… You seemed so relieved, I didn’t have the courage to tell you that I’m just a ghost.”

Risa is painfully aware of the distant ticking of a clock’s hand somewhere as the silence stretches on, but she still doesn’t know how to feel. She’s hurt, relieved, hopeless, angry, maybe just a little glad, but mostly shattered into pieces. When the lump in her throat finally allows for words to pass around it, she asks the only question that remains at the forefront of her mind. “Do you remember when you asked me if I think we’ll be together forever?”

Manaka finally looks up, large eyes wide in surprise, clearly not expecting Risa to remember. Risa doesn’t tell her that the question haunts her in her dreams.

“…Yeah.”

“Then, why did you do it?”

Manaka stiffens. That’s all the confirmation Risa needs to know she understands exactly what she’s being asked, watching as the girl’s gaze begins to flitter around, landing everywhere but pointedly avoiding her. She waits.

Eventually, Manaka does look back at her, and the self-loathing written on her face is almost more than Risa can handle.

“I thought it would be better. For you. But I ended up ruining your life instead.” She tries to laugh, but her voice shudders. “Then again, that’s all I ever did when I was alive, so… I really don’t know why you’re holding on to me so stubbornly.”

Risa doesn’t know what answer she expected, but at this point, she just feels _void_. As if the clutter of emotions finally shut down completely and her head took over, everything seems oddly clear all of a sudden.

When she speaks again, it’s with a newfound coolness.

“You’re an idiot.”

“…Yeah.”

“And a coward.”

“Sorry.”

“But you know what? I think I have an answer to your question now.”

“Huh?” Manaka blinks, looking utterly bewildered, but it’s Risa who feels like a fool. In fact, she probably _is_ the world’s biggest fool, but there’s only one answer left, to her. Even if she knows Manaka won’t like it.

“You’re so selfish. Ever since we started dating, you kept doubting yourself, to the point where eventually your own insecurities made you unable to accept anything I told you anymore. You couldn’t take your self-inflicted fears, so you left me all alone, then you had the audacity to come back and fool me into believing that your death was just a bad dream. And despite all that, you’re _still_ doubting how much I actually love you.”

Manaka’s face twists into a grimace and she grips around her own arm tightly, almost as if every word inflicts physical pain on her and she’s soundlessly enduring it. Risa’s tone softens as she continues, though it still cracks harshly on some words.

“I get it, though. I know I shouldn’t pin the blame entirely on you, because it’s partially my fault, too. You always needed more affection that I had to give, and even though I loved you so much regardless, you felt insecure because I couldn’t express it properly. And I know you came back for _me_ , because I can’t let go of you. I understand that.”

She gently pries Manaka’s hand away from her own arm and simply holds it as she looks the girl in the eye. It’s a gesture normally meant to be reassuring, but as realization begins to dawn on her, Manaka’s features tighten into an unreadable expression. Risa, on the other hand, remains unflappable.

“Even so, you don’t get to ask me to be with you forever and then die on me. That’s why…”

“Risa…”

“You didn’t give me enough time to answer you when you were alive, so now I have no other choice.”

Risa reaches out to take Manaka’s other hand into her own as well, then gently brings both of them around her neck. The girl opens her mouth as if to protest, but Risa cuts her off before she can speak.

“I want to be with you forever, properly this time. So take me with you, Manaka.”

“You can’t possibly ask me to—”

“I can. You owe me this much.” _For once, don’t be selfish_. She leaves it unsaid, but Manaka understands anyway. Risa’s gaze is soft, but insistent enough to make a point.

Maybe she’s the selfish one this time.

But just this once, she thinks she has the right to be, and she allows herself because she knows Manaka understands. She understands that this is something Risa wants for herself. That all along she’s clung onto the concept of _forever_ , but it’s been nothing but a broken promise. And that, to make it right, they can’t keep living in separate worlds.

They would never get their ‘happily ever after’ in life, but in a way, ending up as two lonely ghosts stranded together for eternity feels like a fitting version of _forever_.

Like the biggest fool, Risa smiles at the prospect of having her breath taken away by Manaka’s hands.

Her eyelids flutter closed when Manaka leans in for a kiss. It’s soft, warm, _intoxicating_ enough that it can almost distract her from the sensation of the long fingers trembling nervously on her neck, touching but not yet pressing in. The kiss lingers, to the point where that alone makes her feel lightheaded, but it’s not enough.

Then, with a twitch, Manaka’s bony grip finally tightens around her throat.

And just like that, her clock ticks one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> on an entirely unrelated note, i have [a brand new twitter account](https://twitter.com/techipippis) so you can now feel free to bug me to write more often!! if you want!! i'm also planning on posting my art there, which will mainly be more copious amounts of monarisa, so there's that too if you're interested.  
> it's locked because of the nsfw content it'll probably contain, but please feel free to send a follow request ♥


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